Never Forget You
by phoenixqueen
Summary: Slightly AU. Songfic. The last days of Aragorn's and Arwen's lives. Have a Kleenex handy!


Never Forget You

Disclaimer: All references to Lord of the Rings belong the great J.R.R. Tolkien.  I intend no infringement with this story, which is a by-product of my very over-active imagination.  The song "Never Forget You" is by Mariah Carey from her album "Music Box".

**February 28, Year 120 of the Fourth Age**

The day had dawned unseasonably gloomy.  Leaden gray skies threatened to dump unforeseen rain on the normally shining white city of Minas Tirith.  No gentle breezes stirred the banners of the Tower of Echthelion, and no silver trumpets had greeted the morning with their clear, ringing notes.  A solemn heaviness lay over the city, one felt and shared by every inhabitant living within the city walls.  The whole city seemed to be holding its collective breath, as if waiting for something.

Inside the palace, home of the Elfstone and the Evenstar, King Elessar and Queen Arwen, the tension was even greater.  Guards and servants went about their business silently, as if the least breath or whisper would summon a terrible tragedy.  For a tragedy was indeed brewing.  After many long years full of reconstruction and renewal, the beloved King Elessar was rumored to be fading quickly into death.  After 123 years of peace following the War of the Ring and the return of the King, Elessar was coming to the end of his very long life, a life longer than any human expected to live.

As late afternoon and the setting of the sun approached on what had been a day of uncertainty and tension, outside the city a small white speck could be seen fast approaching the city from the west.  Sentinels on the wall peered off into the setting of the sun and struggled to identify that which approached them so quickly.  Before a half-hour had passed, the shape had resolved itself into a white horse carrying two riders, one tall and fair, and the other short and powerful.  As the mighty horse approached the city, the sentinels sent up the call to allow the riders to pass.  A message was immediately sent up the city to Elessar and Arwen, announcing the arrival of friends, and admittance was quickly granted.

Trotting up to the gates of the palace came two very dear friends of the King and Queen of Elves and Men, a tall elf with fair features and long blonde hair, and a short dwarf with red hair that was beginning to fade to gray.  Legolas reined the horse to a stop and dismounted gracefully, reaching up to help his companion from the horse's back as a servant came to lead the weary horse to the stables.

Together the elf prince and dwarf strode up to the gates of the palace which were flung wide to admit them.  Waiting just inside the grand doors was another elf, with raven colored hair and youthful features only beginning to show signs of age.  The light in her soft grey eyes was only slightly dimmed by tears she tried not to shed.

Both of the travelers stopped several paces away from the maiden and bowed low to her in respect, for she was Arwen Undomiel, the Evenstar of her people.  She nodded in acknowledgement of their greeting before hurrying into the arms that Legolas offered her.  Burying her face in the prince's shoulder, she shuddered as she struggled to keep her sorrow in check.

"Arwen, my lady.  How does he fare?"  Legolas asked softly, but urgently, his normally melodious voice slightly hoarse as he too tried to check his grief.  Having received the message sent by Arwen almost a week ago, Legolas had been mentally weighing his feelings and memories, wanting to deny what he knew to be happening.  The impending death of Aragorn was an event that he had feared from the day he had met the impetuous human, almost two centuries ago.

"He lives yet, but he grows steadily weaker, Legolas my friend." Arwen whispered as a lone tear trickled down her cheek.  "It hurts, Legolas, to see him fading like this and wishing I could stop it, but knowing that he would not wish me too.  There are times I almost can't stand to be in the same room with him and watching him fade, but at the same time it hurts worse to think of not being with him during what could be the last hours of his life."

"Let us go back to him then, my lady."  Gimli said gruffly from the side.  He had not known Aragorn as long as Legolas and Arwen had, but he too did not wish to lose one of the dearest friends he had ever had.  He was well acquainted with mortality and the price thereof, but that did not mean that he was unaffected by the atmosphere of sorrow clinging to the Queen and palace.

Arwen nodded and pulled away from Legolas, bringing one graceful hand up to swipe away the tear clinging to her cheek.  She led the way through the palace, away from the "public" areas and towards the spacious living quarters that she shared with her beloved husband.

Entering the dimly lit room, she moved to the side of the massive bed, where Aragorn lay, propped in place by numerous pillows and resting under several blankets.  A fire was blazing in the fireplace across the room, sending sparks into the air, and occasionally spitting out a coal that landed on the stone hearth.  Arwen walked to a chair next to the bed, and with a small nod at the others gathered around the bed, dismissed them for the moment.

Aragorn and Arwen's several daughters and single son all smiled at their father and leaned down to give him gentle kisses, before leaving the room to allow their father and his oldest friends to be alone for a few moments.  Aragorn smiled at his wife and then frowned for a moment before a weak coughing spasm took him.

As the coughs subsided, he leaned back wearily against the pillows, and turned his attention to Legolas and Gimli, the last two surviving members of the Fellowship of the Ring.  Frodo and Gandalf had passed over the Sea long ago, three years into his reign, and Sam had followed them sixty years later.  Two years after that, Merry and Pippin had returned to Gondor and lived the last several months of their lives with Aragorn and Arwen before passing on, and their bodies had been laid to rest in the Hall of Kings at Aragorn's orders, as befitting their status as heroes of the Reunified Kingdoms.

Aragorn smiled sadly at his friends, taking a few deep breaths as he recovered from the coughing.  He cleared his throat, and blinked back tears of his own, knowing that this was very hard for them and hating to cause them pain.  "Well my friends, the time draws near."

Legolas nodded sadly, not trusting himself to speak at the moment as he took in the elderly human's pale features.  Gimli however, was less subtle.  "Why, Aragorn?  Why now, when the last time we saw each other you were so strong?"

As Aragorn studied his friend and former comrade-in-arms, he coughed again, weakly.  The dwarf was visibly having problems accepting the fact of the King's impending death.  Gimli knew the price of mortality was eventual death, he knew that better than Legolas and Arwen, who being of the Elves were not comfortable or familiar with death.  At the same time however, Aragorn was a friend.  It was one thing to hear about a friend's death, and another thing to witness it firsthand.  The latter was always harder and more grievous than the former.

"Gimli, my time has come.  I have lived a longer life than any of the race of Men could have dreamed of, with the exception of those of fallen Numenor.  Yet, I am of that blood, the blood of Numenor, I am the last.  It is given to me to choose the hour of my eternal slumber, and I would rather go now, while I am still in good health and sound of mind."  Aragorn replied softly.

Legolas finally found his voice.  "Aye, but Aragorn, if you can choose the hour of your death why now when you still could have many more years with your beloved and your delightful children.  As you say, you are still in good health and sound of mind, why throw all that away early?"

Arwen said nothing, but the expression on her face and the tightly restrained tears in her eyes asked the same question of her husband.  To the elven mind, Aragorn had barely begun to live, and yet now he was here choosing his death.

"_Mellon nin_, would you see me continue to live and then to slowly waste away?  To become feeble and old in body and in mind, to cling to life even when I am dying a little more each day?"  Aragorn asked sadly.  He drew himself up proudly.  "Would you see me eventually collapse, unable to think or to care for myself any longer?  For that is my fate if I continue to live.  I may have the longer life span of Numenor, but I do not have the eternal youth of the elves.  Time would wear me down, and eventually overcome me.  Nay, Legolas and Gimli," here he glanced at his Queen, "I would not have that be my fate.  I would not spend my life slowly, dying day by day.  I would rather go now, with my wits and abilities intact."

Legolas nodded again in acceptance, silvery tears trickling out from the corners of his eyes, as he saw the strength and determination that he remembered in his friend of old return for a moment.  It was said that unlike the body, the spirit would never age and die, and that because of this, all beings could know immortality.  Aragorn was right.  Death was preferable to life, if life was nothing more than a slow, torturous death.

Aragorn caught Legolas' eye again.  "I have lived a long, full life, Legolas.  I have been honored to call the elves my family, I have traveled across Middle-Earth, and I have found a dear friend and brother in you that I would not trade for anything that the Valar offered me.  I have been blessed to love and be loved by the most beautiful elf maiden in all of Middle-Earth, and I have married her and watched her bring our children into the world.  I fought the armies of darkness with eight of the most honorable, bravest, and dearest friends I have ever had the privilege to know, and I have watched them live long, full lives.  I have become the ruler of Men, and avenged the blood of my ancestors, and I have seen Gondor restored to her former beauty.  What more is there that I have not done?  I do not fear death, my friends; it is as much a part of life as anything else."

Aragorn leaned back into his pillows and watched as his friends considered his words and acknowledged the truth in them.  He could feel his strength fading quickly, now that he had seen his friends one last time, and comforted them again.  Glancing at Arwen, he nodded slowly, cocking his head in the direction of the door.  With a nod of understanding, she rose and went out into the hallway, calling their children into the room.

Aragorn looked around the room at all of them, and felt his heart swell with love and pride.  There was nothing in his life that he would take back; he had no regrets at all.  The culmination of his life stood in the room around him.  Arwen, his beloved wife, who had sacrificed everything for their shared love.  Legolas, his dearest friend and comrade on so many adventures.  Gimli, representing the Fellowship, and the ultimate quest, and the proof that all prejudice could be overcome.  His children, to whom the future of Middle Earth would soon belong.  A lifetime of love, honor, adventure, and time stood here, waiting to bid goodbye to the person that they all loved dearly.

Aragorn raised a wrinkled hand and beckoned for Eldarion, his son and heir, to step closer.  As the boy, no, the young man did so, Aragorn reached to the bedside table and picked up his scepter and winged crown, and handed them to him.  He beckoned again once he was sure that Eldarion had the crown and scepter firmly in his grasp, and the new king bent down so his father could whisper quietly in his ear.

"Eldarion, I am leaving you my crown, scepter, and throne.  They are yours now my son, and I know that you will rule wisely and well when I am gone.  Watch out for your sisters, and always fight for love.  Love will sustain you where nothing else will.  Hold on to hope, for it will never forsake you, even in the darkest times when it seems like the entire world is in shadow.  Remember the things that I have taught you, and you will be strong and do well in every aspect of your life.  I love you so much, my son, never forget that."

Eldarion nodded, unable to speak as his throat tightened with grief.  He backed away, and Aragorn beckoned to each of his daughters in turn, and as they came forward, he gave them each words of advice and an assurance that he loved them all, and would always love them.

Next, Aragorn summoned Gimli to his side.  The stolid dwarf was a comforting presence to the dying king, as he had been all during the War.  Gimli listened as Aragorn smiled again, remembering his initial uncertainty regarding the tall, rugged ranger.  Though he had trusted Aragorn to not lead them astray, it had taken Gimli some time to become comfortable with the ranger and his abilities.

"Gimli, my friend.  I have been honored to know you this past century, and honored to call you my friend and companion in arms.  You know, as do I, that this is the price that we mortals must pay in the end.  Legolas, however, does not truly understand.  Unlike Arwen, he is full elf and cannot choose mortality as his fate.  Yet, he can still die.  Legolas trusts you as much as he trusts me, and my final request for you is that you will keep an eye on him for a time after I have gone, for I would not see him die of grief over my death."  Aragorn's startling eyes, the color of burnished silver, bored into the dwarf's own black ones as he made his request.  It took a lot of provocation to scare the former ranger, but the one thing that feared now was that Legolas would pine away in grief.  He did not wish to be the cause of the end of his best friend's immortal life.

Gimli nodded firmly.  He leaned closer to the dying King and whispered, too softly for even the keen hearing of Legolas to detect.  "I swear on my axe, my realm, and even my own life, Aragorn.  I will not let Legolas die of grief.  I will watch over him until the danger has passed."

A slow, sad smile crossed the human's face.  "Then I am content, Gimli, knowing that Legolas will live on."  Aragorn leaned back even more against the pillows as a strange weariness crept upon him.  He knew that his time was fast approaching, but he still had things he wished to say.

Legolas stepped forward as Gimli backed away.  The tall elf knelt down near the head of the bed to speak quietly with his dearest friend.  He studied the human for a long moment without speaking, before he turned a brilliant smile on the ranger.  "You look terrible, Strider.  What would your father and brothers say if they could see you now?"  The elf quipped lightly, trying to keep up the spirits of himself and his friend.

Aragorn chuckled slightly at the old running joke between them.  When they were younger, they had been notorious around Rivendell and Mirkwood for managing to gain the most unique injuries that any of the elves had ever seen.  They had dragged themselves back to Lord Elrond countless times to be patched up, only to leave once they were fully recovered and end up hurting themselves again, and being forced to return to Rivendell yet again.  "He would glare at me, _mellon nin_, and then sigh and ask me what had happened _this_ time, before proceeding to lecture me on either the necessity of dodging orc arrows, or avoiding dangerous poisons."

Legolas laughed at the all too true statement.  Before he could speak, however, Aragorn lowered his voice even more and continued his statement.  "Then he would lecture you about your lack of ability to keep an eye on me and to watch my back."  A teasing glint was now in the human's eye, and Legolas' laughter sputtered to a halt, evoking a laugh from Aragorn at the funny sound.

The elf mock-glared at his friend.  "Why you little…" he let the threat trail off unsaid, as they both remembered the days when such humor and laughter were common between them.  Aragorn sobered as the humor faded.  His face grew drawn and serious, and Legolas too became quiet as he watched the change come over Aragorn.  Slipping into the grey tongue and speaking softly so that no one else in the room would be able to hear what he had to say, Aragorn locked eyes with the elf prince.

"Legolas, we had good times growing up didn't we?"  At the elf prince's nod of agreement, Aragorn continued.  "Legolas, you are the dearest friend that I have ever had the privilege to know, and I would not change a single thing that we have experienced together."

"Nor would I, Estel, my friend."  Legolas replied.

"I have two last requests to make of you Legolas, if you would be willing."  The elderly human held his breath, half dreading the prince's response.  He cared for the prince and he knew that Legolas cared for him too, but that was different than being saddled with the dying requests of a dear friend.

The elf's sapphire-blue eyes hardened determinedly.  He leaned down even closer to the king.  "I would do anything for you, Aragorn.  You have but to name it."  The elf's eyes softened as he regarded his friend.

The corners of Aragorn's mouth quirked upwards in a very small, faint smile.  "The first has to do with you Legolas.  I would that you not pass away into grief and fade from this world even as I now am doing.  I would that you will sail to the Undying Lands with your kin when it is your time and when you are ready."  As Legolas nodded, his gaze softening still further, Aragorn continued, hoping that the elf prince would be successful.  "Also, I would ask that you watch over Arwen when I have passed.  I fear that she will pine away and die of grief, and I do not wish to be the cause of that.  Even now, if she repents of her choice she can regain her immortality and sail to the Undying Lands and be with her father and mother again.  I am afraid that she will hold to her choice however, and remain here until she fades from life.  If she chooses that road, I would ask that you watch over her and make sure that the remaining time she has is as pleasant as can be without me."

Legolas was crying again, softly.  Aragorn had never claimed that he possessed a great deal of eloquence, but the elf disagreed with him after hearing the impassioned request that the human had just made.  The fact that he cared enough about Arwen to make sure that she would have someone with her and would not die alone and forgotten spoke a great deal about his selfless nature and concern for all those he loved.  "I swear it, Estel.  I swear that no matter what fate Arwen chooses, I will watch over her until we are reunited by Illuvatar's will."  Never had the prince made such a fervent, honest pledge, not even when pledging his bow to the Fellowship and the fate of Middle-Earth.

Aragorn smiled again, a true, brilliant smile that seemed to light up his face and melt away all the cares and years that clung to him.  "_Hannon le, mellon nin. _I rest content, knowing that those I love most are safely cared for."

Legolas nodded and bent even closer to Aragorn, kissing him gently on the forehead as he had often witnessed Elrond, Elladan, or Elrohir do when the young ranger was injured or sick.  Elves were more open than most men in showing their affections, but of the Elves, it was the Noldor who were the most open.  Legolas had come to care for the ranger as the brother he had never had, and by extension, to consider Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir as part of his "extended" family.

Legolas turned away from his friend and walked over to the balcony, gazing out at the land that could be seen from the King's tower.  It was a magnificent view, with the wide plains visible as far as the eye could see and the river running across the fields.  Looking down into the great city, he observed the people going on their way in each of the levels of the city.

Glancing over his shoulder he saw Arwen now speaking to Aragorn, silver tears now streaming unchecked down her cheeks, but the fair daughter of Elrond seemed not to care.  As Aragorn spoke, she shook her head fiercely and spoke back in a firm whisper.  Gimli stood near the fireplace, staring into the mesmerizing, hypnotic flames.  Eldarion and his sisters were sitting together on the other side of the room, whispering quietly to each other.  Eldarion held his father's crown loosely in his hands; the scepter lay across his lap.  He raised his eyes to meet those of his "uncle" Legolas, and Legolas was struck by how much the young prince resembled his father.  Dark hair spilled over his shoulders, and his silvery eyes gazed unperturbed at Legolas.  There was however, a certain elvish cast to his features that he had inherited from his mother.  Aragorn had that slightly elven look about him too, but it was much more obvious and refined in Eldarion than it had been in Aragorn.

Turning again to the view from the tower of the setting sun, Legolas was struck by an odd sense of poignancy and appropriateness in the ending of the day.  As the day ended, so too did the life of the greatest King that Gondor and the Reunified Kingdoms had ever known.  Tomorrow the sun would rise with Eldarion as the new King of Gondor.

The room fell into a long silence as Aragorn and Arwen finished their conversation.  Legolas continued to gaze out the window for several minutes, before a quiet voice drew his attention to the bed.  Aragorn was sitting up in the bed and attempting to rise, despite Arwen's attempts to push him back down.  Legolas crossed the room in three long strides and added his superior strength to the uneven struggle, pushing the elderly king back into his bed with an ease that would have received admiring whistles from Elladan and Elrohir had they witnessed it.

"Legolas!" Aragorn cried, again trying to struggle out of the bed, only to be pushed back as Legolas refused to allow the king to rise to his feet.  Finally, after a few more struggles, Aragorn subsided.  He looked pleadingly at the elf prince.  "I wish to see the sunset, Legolas.  Help me to the window please."  There was nothing more in the simple words than a last request by the ranger to his oldest friend.  Legolas sighed, but acquiesced, allowing the human to swing his legs slowly out of the bed and supporting him as he rose, trembling, to his feet.  The old and faded ranger clothes he wore still hung nicely on Aragorn's wiry, yet sturdy frame.

With Aragorn hanging on the elf's arm for support, much as he had in times long past when he had had a leg or head wound, Legolas escorted his friend gently and gracefully to the window. Gimli, Aragorn's children, and Arwen trailed behind the elf and man.  They paused at the window and Aragorn reached out and grasped the window frame for additional support.

Silence fell again over the room as all present simply watched the fading sun, and watched as the stars began to appear, their bright radiance shining down and making Minas Tirith gleam a muted silver.  Legolas glanced at the sky, his eyes seeking out and finding Earendil, the star most dear to the elves.  Aragorn followed his gaze, and they stood in silence watching the star before Legolas spoke again.

"Estel, did I ever tell you what your father said to me when I first met him?"  The elf's quiet whisper betrayed nothing more than curiosity and memory.  Aragorn looked at his dear friend for a long moment.  "No, I don't think you did, Legolas.  What did he say?"

Legolas was silent for several heartbeats and the old king wondered if Legolas was going to speak.  "I was recovering from wounds both physical and emotional.  My troupe had been ambushed by orcs and several of my dearest friends had been killed in the fight.  Not only had I been badly hurt, but my spirit was hurt, and in desperation, my father decided to send me to Rivendell to see if Lord Elrond could help me regain my spirit."

"I arrived in Rivendell and although my physical wounds were well on their way to healing, my spirit was still hurting.  Your father took one look at me, and told me that," here Legolas deepened his voice slightly and adopted a kind of lordly air in imitation of Elrond, earning weak giggles from both Aragorn and Arwen. "'It does no good to brood on what has passed youngling.  The future is always in motion and with the dawning of each new day, hope is reborn in our hearts.  I can help you to heal, but the true healing will be accomplished only when you convince yourself that you want to heal, and that hope will always be waiting even in the darkest hours of your life.'"  Legolas smiled at Arwen and Aragorn as they listened intently.  "He challenged me that day in a way that no one had ever done before.  He forced me to look inside my own heart and to know that despair and sadness are never binding if you don't let it take root in your soul."

Arwen blinked back tears.  "I never knew all of this.  Was this after my mother had departed, Legolas?"  The elf maiden missed her father and mother dearly, but she still didn't regret her choice.

Legolas frowned, trying to remember.  "I believe so, Arwen.  I don't recall ever meeting your mother before."

Arwen nodded sadly, but said nothing else, as they watched the last of the sun sink below the horizon.  As the sun finally was gone, Legolas was distracted from his musings by the trembling in Aragorn's arm.  He firmly turned away from the window, despite the king's protests, and led him back to his bed.

Aragorn drifted off into a light slumber almost as soon as his head touched the pillow, proving that he was more fatigued than he had let on.  Legolas knew his friend all too well however, after knowing him for almost two centuries.

Legolas raised a finger to his lips and, catching Arwen's eye, jerked his head towards the door, signifying that he wished to speak to her where they would not disturb the former ranger's light sleep.  She nodded and walked towards the door, and Legolas beckoned for Gimli to join them.

Once they were in the royals' private sitting room, Arwen took a seat on the couch.  Legolas sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, while Gimli hovered near the door.

"Arwen, I hate to have to ask this, but have you sent a message to have a place prepared for Aragorn in Rath Dinen yet?"

Arwen shook her head slowly and sighed heavily.  "I didn't, because I didn't wish to alarm the people yet.  Any sign of activity in the Silent Street would indicate that something was really seriously wrong, and could incite a panic."

"Don't you think you should, Arwen?  It is nightfall now and it is unlikely that anyone will see signs of activity.  You know as well as I do that Estel will probably not last the night, and it would be better to be prepared for when he leaves."  Legolas said softly.

Arwen nodded, and standing went over to the desk where a bell pull hung from the ceiling.  Giving it a gentle tug, she summoned one of the servants who was on the night shift.  When the man entered, she bid him to have the keeper of the Silent Street alerted to open the House of Kings and prepare a place for Elessar between Meriadoc and Peregrin.

The servant's eyes grew very wide at the calm instructions.  He spoke hesitantly.  "Majesty, is the King…?"

Arwen smiled calmly, although she wanted to cry more than to smile.  "Not yet, he is not, but it will not be long now."  The servant nodded and left the room at a swift walk to do his Queen's bidding.

Arwen moved back to the door of the bedroom, prepared to wait out the long vigil by her beloved husband's side.  Legolas and Gimli trailed behind her like silent shadows.

As all of them got comfortable around the room, the slight sounds of their entrance woke Aragorn, who looked around at them with bleary, half-asleep silver eyes.  Arwen went to his side and gently stroked his hair until he drifted back into sleep.

The night passed slowly, the only sounds being the breathing of the room's occupants, the crackle of the coals in the fire, and the occasional sound of Gimli, Eldarion, or one of the princesses shifting position to loosen tight muscles.  Legolas and Arwen might have been carved from marble they sat so quietly and so still.  And so the long hours progressed.

**March 1, Year 120 of the Fourth Age**

Legolas shifted his weight slightly and glanced out the window.   As his eyes locked on the view outside the tower he sucked in a startled breath.  Then he turned and glanced at the bed where Aragorn lay.  Yes, the old king still breathed, his deep, even breaths betraying that he still slept.  Legolas glanced incredulously out the window again, and confirmed that the sun was indeed rising and tingeing the world a pale pink.

As this thought sunk in, another followed fast on its heels.  Today was March 1st, the day of Aragorn's birth, 210 years ago.  Now Legolas saw another reason why Aragorn had chosen this particular time to pass on, and he smiled at the human's strange sense of humor.

Even as he sat there thinking, he heard increased breathing coming from the bed, and looked back in time to see the elderly human stirring.  A few moments later, the striking silver eyes blinked open, and Aragorn yawned as he was brought from the sleep of the night.  He looked squarely at Legolas, and smiled.

"Is it morning, Legolas?"  The king whispered with a glance at his children, all of whom had fallen asleep, not being accustomed to staying up all through the night the way that their parents and "uncles" were.

Legolas nodded, no other reply was needed, as Aragorn read the elf's answer in his eyes, in the silent communication that they had always seemed to share after they met.  It was an ability that had served both of them very well on all of their misadventures, as well as on the last great Quest with the Fellowship.

Aragorn nodded slowly.  "Then it is finally time, _mellon nin_."  He looked at Arwen, who gave him a tremulous smile and blinked back tears.  Aragorn took a deep breath and raised himself into a sitting position.  The sound of the bed creaking at the shift in weight woke Eldarion and his sisters and they gathered around the bed.

Legolas slipped out of the room for a moment and saw a servant standing in the sitting room.  He made a half-bow to the elf and handed him a sealed envelope with Arwen's name on it.  Legolas nodded and slipped back into the bedroom.  He handed the envelope to Arwen, who opened it.

She turned to Aragorn who was now sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for Legolas to help him up.  "Preparations have been made for you in the House of Kings, Estel.  Do you wish us to take you there?"

Aragorn simply nodded, saying nothing.  With Legolas' help, the king rose to his feet and went into the next chamber, where Legolas helped him put on his court robes.  Then they walked out of the royal chambers and began to make the long descent down to the sixth ring of the city.

When they reached the stairs that led to the ground floor of the palace, Legolas quickly discovered that Aragorn couldn't manage them very well anymore, as his trembling increased drastically.  So, despite the king's protests, Legolas scooped him up in his strong arms and began to carry him down the winding steps.  Aragorn's face was flushed a bright pink, embarrassed that his weakness had progressed so quickly that he had to be carried through his own home.

Cradled in Legolas' strong arms, the descent to the ground floor of the palace was quickly accomplished and Legolas set Aragorn down before they encountered anyone.  Then, progressing slowly through the palace, the small procession headed out into the streets.  It was early morning still, and the city was silent.  Guards posted at the front doors of the palace saluted their king sharply as Legolas helped him outside.  Aragorn nodded and the guards relaxed.

Aragorn breathed deeply of the early morning air, still crisp with the last traces of winter's bite.  He smiled fondly, remembering his years as a ranger, the years when he had roamed Middle-Earth and been a free spirit, unburdened with the responsibility of ruling.

Slowly the procession moved out of the palace grounds and down to the sixth level of the city, which held a long-closed door that led to Rath Dinen, the Silent Street.  Along that cold, silent street, only the Halls of the Kings sat; the final resting place of all of the Kings of Gondor and Arnor, and all of the Stewards who had ruled Gondor faithfully in the time that there had been no King on the throne.

Legolas found that the closer they came to the Halls, the weaker Aragorn seemed to grow, so Legolas began lending more and more support to his oldest friend.  Then they entered the Silent Street, and immediately the air seemed colder, and more oppressive, as if the spirits of long dead Kings were reaching out to the procession, urging them to come to join them.  Legolas felt a cold chill go down his back and shivered slightly, so slightly that no one else noticed it.  Glancing around at the others, he saw that Arwen too looked very uncomfortable with being here, but Legolas couldn't tell if that was because she too felt the strangeness of the air, or if she was reacting because this was the time when she would have to say goodbye to her beloved, the man she had given up her immortality for.

The Halls of the Kings loomed up in front of them, and standing at the wrought-iron gate that kept out other people, was the Keeper of the Kings, the man whose job was to keep out vandals and take care of the grounds.  He bowed low as the royals approached, and as Aragorn and Arwen walked past him, the man rose again.  Legolas glanced back over his shoulder and saw tears creeping down the man's cheek.  Legolas smiled sadly.  Aragorn had been such a good, wise king that he was beloved by everyone in his kingdom, and Legolas knew that there would be a great deal of mourning and weeping for many days when he was gone.

Now the small group moved down the paved walkway and entered the low set building that housed the tombs of all of the Kings of Gondor.  Gimli breathed an admiring sigh at the fine stonework of the old building, but both Legolas and Arwen shivered slightly at the oppressive air of the building. Elves were not meant to live confined in stone.

Legolas escorted Aragorn past the monuments that held the tombs of the Kings.  Aragorn bade him to stop at one in particular.  The old ranger stepped closer to the monument and lightly ran his fingers over the carved surface.  Legolas glanced curiously at the tomb and saw with astonishment that it was Isildur's tomb.

"I thought that Isildur was killed in the Anduin?" The elf prince glanced at his friend.  Aragorn nodded simply, before speaking.  "Legolas, this tomb is empty.  Isildur's body was never recovered, but his son ordered a tomb crafted for him and laid here as befitted him as Elendil's son and a King of Gondor."  Turning his attention back to the monument, he was silent for several long minutes.  Then, in a whisper so quiet that Legolas had to strain to hear him, Aragorn spoke again.  "Your mistakes have been avenged, by bravery and love surpassing all acts of Middle-Earth."

Turning away from the grave, Aragorn continued down the hall heading for an empty platform that sat between two smaller tombs.  Legolas felt his throat tightening up as they grew closer, but at the same time, he felt the air getting even heavier and his sense of not belonging here escalated quickly.

Aragorn again stopped as they reached the first of the smaller tombs.  Smiling down at the carefully constructed statue that lay on the tomb's lid, he looked for the first time in many years at the face of a dear friend.  Legolas followed his gaze and smiled as well at the gentle features of Merry Brandybuck, a Knight of Rohan and member of the Fellowship of the Ring.  Next to his tomb lay a larger, empty table, and next to that was an identical monument with a statue of Peregrin Took, Knight of Gondor, Thain of the Shire, and also a member of the Fellowship.  The two mischievous hobbits had returned to the Shire after the War and had lived there in peace for a long time.  Pippin had become the Thain, which was almost identical to Faramir's job as Steward of Gondor, only for the Shire.  They had made frequent visits to both Rohan and Gondor after the War, to reunite with Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas.

Aragorn said nothing, but a fond smile came over his face as he regarded the resting places of the two hobbits.  No doubt he was remembering all the laughter and mischief that the two had been responsible for on the Quest, as well as the run across Rohan in pursuit of the Uruk-hai who had taken the two captive.

After several long moments of silence and memories, Aragorn turned again and walked over to the empty middle platform.  He ran his fingers over it lightly, and sighed quietly.  Without saying a word, he turned to Legolas and embraced him tightly.  Legolas returned the hug just as firmly.  When the elf released the king, Gimli came up and also embraced the ranger around the waist, the only part of him that the dwarf could reach since Aragorn was trembling too much and was too weak to kneel down.

Aragorn's children also came up one by one and hugged and kissed their father before stepping back and making room for Arwen to step forward.  Aragorn drew her into a tight embrace, before lowering his head and giving her a long, slow kiss.  When they finally parted, Aragorn raised a shaking hand and brushed away some of the silver tears from Arwen's cheeks with his thumb.  "I love you, Evenstar.  I always have, and I always will.  I am so sorry that I separated you from your family."

Arwen blinked rapidly.  "It was my choice, Estel.  I love you so much and I would make the same choice, even if I had known every single thing that has happened since I first met you.  You are not only the Hope of Men; you are my hope and my love."

Aragorn nodded and kissed her again.  Then, painfully, he laid himself down on the stone platform.  Everyone in the group gathered around the platform.  Aragorn smiled again as he looked around at his friends and family.  "_Namarie_, my friends, my children, my beloved.  Iluvatar willing, I will see you all beyond the Halls of Mandos."  Without another word, the proud and noble King Elessar closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  He exhaled softly, and was still.  No breath stirred, and the flush of life faded from his cheeks, and his skin grew cold and pale.

"Estel!  Estel!" cried Arwen, and with a small cry of despair, she flung herself over her husband's body, weeping desperately.  Her children, unsure of how to comfort her if comfort was at all possible, stood awkwardly around the body of their father.  Legolas however, went to the Queen's side and gently wrapped his arms around her, pulling her away from Aragorn and into his own body, so that she was weeping against his shoulder instead of the comfortless body of Aragorn.

Legolas simply held the Queen for long moments, allowing her to cry as he rubbed her back in slow circles and rocked her gently.  Finally, her sobs subsided, for it was not the nature of the Elves to cry so agonizingly over a loved one.  The Elves showed their sorrow in other, more profound ways, through music, poetry, and simple ceremonies.  When she finally raised her head and looked at Legolas, a very dear friend, he noticed with an odd twinge of discontent that the normally brilliant light of her soft grey eyes seemed to have faded.

"Arwen, we need to return to the palace and inform the people, and prepare for Eldarion's coronation."

She nodded, but the light of her eyes did not return.  She leaned down and planted one last kiss on her love's cheek before turning and leading the way out of the Halls.  The servants and craftsmen would need to be informed so that a statue and tomb of Aragorn could be crafted and placed in the Halls, and a viewing would have to be arranged as well.

_I won't see your smile_

_And I won't hear you_

_Laugh anymore_

As the group returned to the palace, Arwen summoned a herald to ask the people to gather near the palace for an important announcement, without revealing what it was she wished to say.  The herald nodded and hurried off to gather the people.  She next ordered Eldarion to go to his chambers and put on his most formal court robes that he had.

Legolas and Gimli had nothing more formal to wear to the ceremony, so as Gimli followed Eldarion, Legolas trailed after Arwen, knowing that she would want someone to talk to sooner or later.  Arwen swept into her chambers and with a quiet word summoned her maids to attend her.  Legolas waited in the sitting room while Arwen got ready for the ceremony.  As he looked around at the spacious chambers, his eyes fell on the door, and he remembered all the times that he had seen Aragorn come into that door at night, exhausted after a day of court, only to be surprised to see his best friend waiting for him.

_Every night_

_I won't see you_

_Walk through that door_

Now, Legolas began to cry softly, his own silver tears falling softly as the loss of Aragorn finally hit him.  The ranger had been his best friend for so long, and had done so much, not just for him, but for Mirkwood, Rivendell, Gondor, and all of Middle-Earth.  Living in obscurity and being scorned and unknown for the majority of his life, Aragorn had lived a thankless life, risking his life many times.  He had also been the brother that Legolas had never had, and his laughter and strange sense of humor had been one of the brightest points of their friendship.

Even in the darkest times, or the most dangerous situations, however, Aragorn had lived and upheld his elvish name.  Estel.  Hope.  Aragorn had always been a source of hope for Legolas, and silently, the elf prince commended Lord Elrond for his choice in names for his adopted son.

Arwen emerged from her chambers, looking if possible, even more heartbroken that she had only a few minutes ago.  She was not crying anymore, but the light in her beautiful eyes was definitely gone.  Legolas quickly swiped his hand across his eyes, drying his tears as the Queen approached, and offered her his arm.  She accepted it, and without a word, the two long-time friends headed down to the town square.  A manservant followed behind carrying a jeweled box that held Aragorn's crown and scepter.

All of the people of Minas Tirith were assembled in the square when Arwen and Legolas arrived.  Guards cleared a path for their Queen and her escort.  Eldarion and his sisters were already waiting for Arwen's arrival.  Legolas studied the new King, and realized that he was a man, but that unlike his father, Eldarion's rule would probably not last as long as his father's even with his mother's elven blood and his father's Numenorien blood.  The elf prince shook his head sadly as the full understanding of the way mortals understood time hit him in the face suddenly.

_'Cause time wasn't on_

_Your side_

_It isn't right_

Arwen mounted the dais in the square and raised her hands to still the murmur that had started when she didn't arrive with Elessar by her side.  The crowd immediately fell silent at the movement, out of love for their Queen.

"Good people of Minas Tirith, I have sad news to impart to you today."  Arwen said quietly, but the silence was so profound that even the people in the very back of the crowd could hear every word she spoke.  "This morning, less than an hour ago, my beloved husband, King Elessar Telcontar passed away to the Halls of Mandos."

A soft cry of denial and shock quickly spread through the gathering, but as Arwen shook her head, they quieted again.  "It is with a heavy heart that I proclaim that the city will be in mourning for the next year, in respect for the first King of Gondor since Earnil, and because he was a hero of the War, and the Lord of the Reunified Kingdoms."

At a small signal, trumpeters sounded the silver horns, blowing a soft lament for their fallen King, while guards on the Tower unrolled black banners and draped them from the balconies.  Immediately afterwards, a heavy silence fell once again over the city, as if the city itself was mourning Elessar.

Gesturing to the manservant and to Eldarion, who both stepped forward, Arwen turned again to the crowd and spoke.  "I now proclaim the throne of Gondor to pass to my son, Eldarion, should he choose now to take the oath, with all here as witnesses."  Removing the heavy winged crown, Arwen held it lightly as she spoke to her son.  "Eldarion, my son, do you promise, in sight and hearing of all the witnesses, to uphold the throne of Gondor and Arnor, to protect and guard the land and people under your care, and are prepared to lay your life down in defense of them, should it be required of you?"

Eldarion nodded and sank to one knee in a formal bow in front of his mother.  "I do swear to all of the above, Majesty.  _Et Earello Endorenna utulien.  Sinome maruvan ar Hindinyar tenn' Ambar-metta!"  Surprising everyone present, Eldarion slipped into the High Elvish tongue, and recited the pledge that his father had at his coronation, one hundred twenty three years ago.  Aragorn had coached him well for this moment, and Legolas did not doubt that Eldarion would be a good King._

Arwen nodded and set the crown upon her son's head, then handed him the scepter of Arnor.  "Rise, then, and face your people."  As Eldarion did so, Arwen called in a loud voice, "Here, people of Minas Tirith, is your King, Eldarion Telcontar!"

The crowd roared approval and all of them sank immediately to their knees before their new King.  In the confusion that followed, Arwen slipped silently off of the dais with elven grace and disappeared into the crowd, heading back towards the palace.  No one noticed her departure, save one.  Legolas spotted her and beckoned to Gimli, telling him to stay with Eldarion.

Gimli nodded, but then realized that Legolas had already disappeared into the crowd.  "Blasted elf," the dwarf grumbled.  "Always in such a hurry."

Legolas slipped easily through the gathered people, emerging in short order and spotting Arwen immediately.  The elf prince picked up speed until he was loping along behind the elf maiden.  He quickly caught up to her, and as he reached out a gentle hand and laid it on her shoulder, he saw that she was weeping again.

"Arwen, what's wrong?  Has Estel's death really affected you this much?  He would not want you to cry for him, my lady.  He always hated for people to make a fuss over him," the elf prince asked softly.

Arwen sniffed slightly, and shook her head.  "No, Legolas.  It is not that I miss him, although I do, it is that I never told him that he would always be remembered in my heart."  She stumbled a little bit as her tears blurred her eyes.  "Legolas, I'll never get to tell him that I love him ever again."

_I can't say I love you_

_It's too late to_

_Tell you_

_But I really need_

_You to know_

_No, I'll never forget you_

_I'll never let you, out of my heart_

"He knows, Arwen.  He knows that you love him, and he knows that as long as the elves live in Valinor that he'll be remembered in the hearts of your father and brothers, in my heart, in yours as well.  But what about you, Arwen?  Will you now travel to Valinor and reunite with your family?  I think that is the one thing that Aragorn regrets, that he separated you from your father and mother.  I know you would make him very happy if you repented of your decision and sailed to Valinor."

Arwen shook her head.  "There is no ship that would carry me to Valinor, Legolas.  All of Cirdan's people have left the Grey Havens and there are no ships remaining.  No, I will stay in Middle-Earth, as was my decision all those years ago.  I pledged myself to him, and my fate is his."

"Arwen, I still will sail to Valinor soon.  I will build my own ship, and I will take you if you wish to go." Legolas argued.  "I will probably be leaving before the spring, and I will even take Gimli with me, if he will consent to go.'

"No, Legolas.  Middle-Earth is my home for the remainder of my years.  I do regret that I will never see my mother and father again, but that was my choice when Estel and I pledged ourselves to each other.  I will soon be returning to Lorien, for Eldarion does not need me any longer, and my daughters are all grown."

Legolas nodded acceptance.  "Then Gimli and I will go with you."

"What?"  Arwen asked, startled.

"I promised Aragorn last night that I would watch out for you, no matter what your choice, and I will not renege on my promise.  You will not be alone, no matter what."

Arwen smiled sadly.  "_Hannon le, Legolas.  That is not necessary, however.  All I have left are my memories of my family and my beloved."_

_You will always be here with me_

_I'll hold on to the memories, baby_

Together, the two elves entered the place for the last time, and went up to Arwen's chambers, where she dismissed her maids and reached into the wardrobe for an old, stained travel pack, which she laid on the bed.  Then Arwen disappeared into the changing rooms again and emerged wearing a simple black dress and veil.

Without a word, she proceeded to pack up several black gowns, rolling them up lightly and settling them into the pack.  Once that was done, she went to the sitting room, with Legolas trailing behind her, and picked up a quill and paper, and began to write something.  Legolas peered over her shoulder and saw that it was an order for a tomb to be made, with a statue of Elessar on the lid, just as had been done for Merry and Pippin.

As she then proceeded to write up a few last minute orders, her children filed into the room and looked at their mother in shock.  Arwen ignored them for a moment while she finished her task, before setting aside the quill and stacking the orders to the side of the desk.

Eldarion was the first of the children to speak.  "Mother, what is going on?"  The new King still looked slightly confused by the speed that everything was happening.  He took in the traveling packs and the black gown.

Arwen smiled, but it was a smile so full of sadness and despair that Legolas blinked, not believing what he was seeing.  "I will be departing soon, Eldarion.  You are a man now, and do not need me anymore."

There was silence for a moment, before the room erupted in chatter and protests.  Arwen said nothing, as her children argued and pleaded with her to change her mind.  Gimli finally took charge, slamming the haft of his axe down on the stone hearth.  Profound silence fell in the room again.

Arwen's oldest daughter was the first one to break the silence.  "You are going over the Sea mother?  You are an elf, isn't that what the elves did?"

Arwen shook her head.  "No, my children.  I gave up my place in Valinor long ago when I met your father, and I passed it onto Frodo the Ringbearer after the War.  I am now doomed to Middle-Earth as a mortal woman."

Eldarion seemed even more puzzled now.  "Then where are you going, mother?  Why not live out your years here in Minas Tirith?"

"Because Minas Tirith is no longer home for me, Eldarion, without your father.  I love all of you dearly, but he was the reason I gave up my immortality and to live here, surrounded by this city is too hard for me.  I will be going to Lothlorien, where I spent most of my life after my own mother went over the Sea."  Arwen smiled again at the memory.  "Legolas will be going with me, and I shall love out the remainder of my life in the woods where I was always most at home."

Gimli spoke up.  "If Legolas is going with you Arwen, then so am I."  Arwen nodded her thanks, then stood and walked over to her son, and embraced him tightly.  She also embraced each of her daughters and reminded them that she loved them, and asked them not to follow her.  Her eldest daughter was now the Lady of Minas Tirith, until the time came when Eldarion would take a Queen.

Arwen spent the remainder of the day with her family, and as sunset approached, she picked up a traveling cloak and swung it over her shoulders, drawing the hood up over her head.  Together, she, Legolas and Gimli went down to the stables, where Legolas gathered up his horse and Arwen called for her mare.  Then they rode for the Great Gate and disappeared into the gathering gloom.  Legolas looked back only once, and bid a silent farewell for the last time to the great city and the greatest friend he had ever had.

**May 20, Year 120 of the Fourth Age**

Two months had passed since the three travelers had departed Minas Tirith.  Before two weeks had passed they had arrived in Lothlorien, only to find that without the presence of Galadriel and Celeborn, as well as the other elves, that the once tall and beautiful _mallorn_ trees had faded and were no longer the proud and most beautiful trees in all of Middle-Earth.  Since then, the three friends had wandered through the trees and lived mostly in silence, except for every once in a while when one of them would speak of a memory of Aragorn.

With every passing day, a little more of Arwen's life and beauty seemed to fade as well, but still she clung to life.  Legolas and Gimli were concerned about the lovely Queen but they said nothing, knowing that she would not appreciate it if they hovered over her.

As sunset drew on this night, they camped around a fire near what was left of the Nimrodel.  The once laughing, bubbling stream had also changed and was quieter and flowed slower as if it too mourned for the departure of the elves.

Arwen smiled suddenly as they ate some of the venison that Legolas had hunted for them earlier in the day.  "Aragorn used to love to come here when I lived here.  We would picnic out here in the sunshine, listening to Nimrodel, and he would always ask me to sing the lay of Nimrodel for him."  She sobered suddenly.  "I wonder where he is now.  Is he in the Halls of Mandos, do you think Legolas?  Or is he still roaming Middle-Earth, where his heart always lay?"

_Baby can you hear me_

_Wherever you_

_May be tonight_

_Are you near me_

_I need you to be by_

_My side_

Legolas turned his gaze upward, looking at what stars could be seen through the trees.  "I think both are equally true, Arwen.  He probably is in the Halls of Mandos, but I think his heart is still walking Middle-Earth, watching out for us all.  Sometimes, I almost think I can sense his presence when we walk through the trees."  The prince laughed lightly.  "That is probably nonsense, but it is a nice thought."

Arwen blinked back tears.  "I never said good-bye to him, Legolas.  Even right at the very end, I couldn't accept his death.  I loved him so much, but I couldn't even tell him goodbye and that I loved him.  Mortality is such a bitter draught, now I understand what my father tried to tell me all of those years ago during the War."

_'Cause I never said_

_Goodbye_

_It isn't right_

_I should have said_

_I love you_

_Why didn't I just_

_Tell you_

_God knows I need_

_You to know_

Legolas shook his head.  "He knew Arwen, Aragorn had greater foresight than most of his people, and he knew that it would come to this, and he knew that it would be hard for you to accept his death.  The fact that he still loved you, and never gave you up was proof enough of that.  He told Galadriel during the War that he wished that you would take the ship to Valinor, but he knew you would not."

**November 15, Year 120 of the Fourth Age**

Late autumn was settling on the woods of Lothlorien.  Legolas, Gimli, and Arwen still dwelled beneath the sheltering trees.  Gimli had left them for a few months to return to the Glittering Caves and inform his people of where he would be, and to leave the ruling of the Caves in the hands of his own son indefinitely.  He had returned after two months, giving Legolas his pledge that he would sail with him to the Undying Lands when the prince was ready.

The three friends had received a few messengers from Minas Tirith in the eight months that they had been in Lorien, one to inform Arwen that Eldarion had found a bride and expressing a fond wish that the former Queen would return for the wedding.  Arwen had sent back her congratulations, but declined the invitation.

Now it was becoming more obvious than ever that the Queen was fading from life and following her beloved husband.  Legolas had tried several times in vain to get her to change her mind and sail with him to the Undying Lands, but she had refused and asked him to speak no more of it.  Legolas had heeded her wishes, but it pained him deeply that he had failed Aragorn and had been unable to persuade the Evenstar from following her choice to the end.  He knew that Aragorn would not blame him however, and somehow that just made the failure and the guilt seem even sharper.

Now, more than ever, Legolas seemed to feel that Aragorn was still watching out for his dear friends and his family.  More often the elf prince seemed to feel a gentle wind blowing around them, carrying the comforting presence of Aragorn with it.  If Arwen ever felt it, she made no sign.

_No, I'll never forget you_

_I'll never let you out of my heart_

_You will always be here with me_

Rarely now did they speak of their memories of Aragorn, dwelling in silence that was very unnatural to the elves.  Gimli often left them for hours at a time, simply to go somewhere where he could hear some noise; otherwise the stolid dwarf might have gone mad.

Legolas found that though he did not speak often of Aragorn anymore, the memories came more clearly and sharply than ever, as if the lack of speaking about the ranger made it all the more important that he think of his dear friend.

_I'll hold on to the memories baby_

**December 31, Year 120 of the Fourth Age**

The chill bite of winter swirled all around them.  Legolas and Arwen didn't seem to feel it, but Gimli felt it strongly through his cloak and heavy clothing.  The rested in a cave, a small fire cracking cheerfully, providing the only sound other than the howling of the wind.

It was the last day of the year, and there was no more disguising the fact that Arwen was very sick and weak.  Her strength had failed rapidly in the last month, but still she clung to life, though Gimli didn't expect that to last much longer.  He was struck again with the pain of seeing a dear friend die slowly, before his eyes, in less than a year.

It was near sunset, and the storm had not let up.  Snow swirled through the air and blew into the entrance of the cave.  The silence grew even more profound, and Gimli nearly wanted to scream, just to hear a reaction from his friends.  He restrained himself, however, not wanting to disturb Arwen.

Legolas sat near the back of the cave, with Arwen next to him huddled under what blankets and cloaks they had.  Her face was very pale and her breath came harshly, broken sporadically with coughing spasms.  He was reminded forcefully of the many times that Aragorn had been sick during the time that the elf had known him.

He knew that Arwen's time was rapidly ending on this world.  That was why he had often gone in secret during the night to the place where he had begun constructing the ship that would bear he and Gimli to Valinor after Arwen's passing.

Legolas reached into his pack and pulled out a low, flat box that he had been given by Aragorn about a year ago.  Breaking open the seal, he studied the long, flat green leaves that lay in a soft bed of cloth.  He smiled again, remembering all the times he had seen Aragorn use this herb in his healing.  He could not duplicate Aragorn's ability with the herb, but taking the leaves; he crushed them between his palms and cast them in a pot of boiling water on the fire.  The sweet scent of _athelas flowed through the cave bringing with it the sharp reminder of Middle-Earth in the spring, and he breathed the scent deeply._

Arwen smelled it too, and though it did not have the same healing properties it would have had in Aragorn's hands, the herb still brought ease of mind to the elf maid and she began to cry softly, tears that she had long held in check.

So they sat, long through the night, as the fire burned low and the sweet smell of the _athelas_ drifted through the cave.

**January 1, Year 121 of the Fourth Age**

Arwen stirred in her pile of blankets and slowly stood to her feet, walking out of the cave.  Legolas dozed lightly, but didn't wake at her quiet movements, and Gimli slept near the front of the cave, snoring as usual.  Arwen smiled, knowing that once he woke, Legolas would spend a few minutes complaining about the noise.  It was a very old joke between them by now, but they still delighted in whatever humor they could still get from it.

She walked a few paces into the snow.  The storm had blown out overnight, and a few inches of new snow lay on the ground.  Although she was now mortal, she was still elfkind, and she still possessed the ability of the elves to walk on top of the snow.

The trees were laden with snow on their branches, and a few lone birds sang, but the songs seemed empty and foreign in the dead woods.  Although these woods had been her home for many centuries, without the power of Celeborn and Galadriel, the woods had faded quickly.

A gentle breeze blew around her, and in the wake of the wind, she thought she felt the long-forlorn presence of her beloved Aragorn.  As the wind continued to swirl about her, it seemed to her that she felt Aragorn's strong arms wrap her in a warm embrace.

She missed Aragorn so much, but she knew that it would not be long now until she rejoined him.  Even as her body grew weaker, her spirit grew stronger, and she knew she was making the right decision.  She wouldn't have been happy in Valinor, and would have pined to death without Aragorn, even if she was reunited with her father and mother.

_Somewhere I know you'll be_

_With me_

_Someday in another time_

_But right now you're gone_

_You just vanished away_

Meanwhile, inside the cave, Legolas woke suddenly, and as he looked around, trying to figure out what had woken him, he noticed that Arwen was gone.  He panicked for a moment, until his keen eyes saw her outside the cave, standing in the snow, her long black hair blowing in the wind around her.

Rising to his feet, Legolas left the cave and went to stand behind her.  Much as he had many times in the last nine months, he simply lent her support with his silent presence.  Her eyes were closed in silent bliss, and he wondered what was making her so happy.

As the wind died down around them, it blew off into the distance, blowing teasingly through the few leaves that were left on the trees, as if beckoning the two elves to follow.

Arwen didn't look at Legolas, but she sighed.  "Legolas, I am ready."

Legolas nodded slowly, before speaking, but he drew her into an embrace.  She returned it.  "I am glad Arwen, but I do want to know one thing.  Was all of this worth it?  Did you make the right decision to stay and fade into death?"

Arwen looked up into Legolas' gentle blue eyes with her own grey eyes.  The light in her eyes had never returned after Aragorn's death.  "I would not make any other choice if I could go back and do this all over.  All the pain, all the sorrow, it was all worth it if I had this last century with him."

Legolas nodded slowly, and released her, going into the cave to wake up Gimli.  The dwarf was snoring loud enough to wake every animal from here to Minas Tirith, Legolas thought with a small smirk.  He decided not to hassle Gimli about it this morning, however, seeing as how the morning would see the end of Arwen's time in Middle-Earth.

Bending down, he shook Gimli's shoulder, hard.  The dwarf snorted hard and rolled over quickly, his massive hand coming up and slapping Legolas' hand away from his body.  He blinked open his eyes and sat up, shooting a questioning look at his elf friend.

Legolas raised a fair eyebrow and cocked his head to the side.  "It's time."  Nothing more than that, but with those two simple words, Gimli understood and nodded.  Together the elf and dwarf rose to their feet and went outside.  The fire had burned out in the night, so they left their belongings in the cave and joined Arwen.

She wandered off towards what had once been Caras Galadhon.  The wind danced on ahead of them stirring the dead branches and rustling the bushes, now coming back to surround the three and play with their hair, now rushing back on ahead of them as if guiding them somewhere.

They reached the once-proud elven city, only to find ruins of what had been Galadriel's gardens, and the beautiful winding staircases had been weathered away in the last century, the flets that had held the whole city up in the treetops were beginning to collapse, and some whole flets lay as rubble on the ground.

Arwen walked through the abandoned city without a word, though her face was very sad at this further evidence of the departure of the elves.  This had been her home for so long, and to see it this way, coming after the death of her love was a double blow to her heart.

Arwen led the way past the city and back among the trees to a tall hill, Cerin Amroth, the place where she and Aragorn had pledged themselves to each other and become betrothed.  Many years they had been betrothed to each other before they wed, because Elrond would not allow his daughter to marry any less than a King.  Mounting the crest of the hill, Arwen stood there for long moments in silence, before calling out in a sweet voice.  "Estel, I come.  As I pledged you long ago, I would stand by your side in everything, through darkness and light, toil and trouble, life and death.  Your time came sooner than I had hoped, but now my time comes, and I will fulfill my pledge."

With that, she turned to Legolas and Gimli, and bade them come up the hill to stand beside her.  She embraced both of them fondly.  "_Hannon le_ to both of you.  Thank you for standing beside me all of this time.  I am sorry for all the trouble and worry I caused you, both."  Reaching into a pocket in her cloak, she withdrew a sealed envelope.  It was addressed to Elrond.  She gazed earnestly into Legolas' eyes.  "Legolas, when you cross over the Sea, will you give this to my father when you see him again?"

Legolas took the letter and tucked it into an inside pocket in his jerkin.  "I swear it Arwen.  This letter will reach your father safely."

Gimli huffed and grumbled under his breath for a moment.  "We'll never forget you, Arwen," he finally said.  The dwarf was unusually sober, on this morning, and as Arwen bent and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek, he flushed a bright crimson and turned away.

Legolas embraced her one last time, before whispering softly into her ear in elvish.  "Go with speed and the grace of the Valar, Arwen Evenstar.  You shall always live in our hearts, even when this world has forgotten your grace and your beauty.  A star shone upon the hour of our meeting."

Arwen nodded and turned back to face the hill as Legolas and Gimli backed away.  "I come, Estel."  Then she lay herself down on the snow and closed her eyes.  Gimli couldn't see much from his vantage point, but Legolas watched as the rise and fall of her chest slowly ceased, and her face, already pale from the slow decay of time grew even paler.

_But I'll never leave_

_You behind_

Legolas waited only a few moments longer before turning to Gimli.  "Master Dwarf, if you would be so kind as to return to the cave and bring back our belongings, I will prepare the Lady Arwen for burial.  For here she plighted her troth to Aragorn, and here she rejoined him in death, so here shall she lie until the ending of Iluvatar's song and the ending of the world."

With a short nod, Gimli strode away down the hill in the direction that they had come, while Legolas again approached the body.  With gentle movements, he positioned Arwen in the correct fashion for elvish burial, and then began to clean the snow off of the top of the hill.  By the time that Gimli returned, almost an hour later, Legolas had cleared the snow and wrapped Arwen up in the blankets and cloaks.  Together, elf and dwarf set to work digging a shallow grave for the departed lady, and when they had finished, Legolas went over to Arwen and picked her up, laying her in the grave that they had dug.  Together, they filled in the hole and then both stood silently to pay their last respects.

As they turned away from the grave, Legolas paused and looked back for one moment at the freshly dug grave.  Somewhere, for some reason he didn't understand, he felt approval was heavy in the air, and he once again felt the comforting presence of Aragorn all about him.  Maybe it was the connection that they had forged, one so deep that it would last even after death.

And as elf and dwarf turned away and walked back through the ruins of Lothlorien again, towards the river where Legolas had begun building his ship, a beam of sunlight, stronger than usual for the time of year lanced down on the clearing, and the wind again blew clear and crisp through the forest.  Echoing on that wind, for a moment, was the sound of laughter, the laughter of two voices, one high and musical, the other deep and powerful.

Legolas and Gimli sailed to the Undying Lands soon after spring had returned to Middle-Earth, and upon their arrival in Valinor, Legolas sought out the Lord Elrond, and as promised, delivered to him a long sealed envelope, with his daughter's final farewell written inside.

And ever after, when the spring came again to the former woods of Lothlorien, even after centuries had passed and all memory of the elves, of the War, and especially of Arwen and Aragorn had been forgotten, the clearing on the top of Cerin Amroth was always the most beautiful to be seen for miles around, blooming with flowers and filled with sunshine.  And if you listen closely, when the wind is right, the sound of laughter will fill the clearing, the laughter of two lovers brought together by fate and joined together by love and Iluvatar's Song, for Arwen and Aragorn will never part from each other.

_No, I'll never forget you_

_I'll never let you out of my heart_

_You will always be here with me_

_I'll hold on to the memories baby_


End file.
